


Attack of the 62-Inch Mother

by Jennifer-Oksana (JenniferOksana)



Series: Jack/Liz Babyfic [3]
Category: 30 Rock
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Kid Fic, Romance, Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 20:51:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5716672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniferOksana/pseuds/Jennifer-Oksana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Can our heroes keep a secret? Can Colleen sweat it out of them? Can Liz spend a whole five days without cracking from the tension?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Attack of the 62-Inch Mother

“Have you ever been to Vancouver, Lemon?” Jack asked one morning. “Lovely city. Lots of low-budget productions, a ready pool of talent…”

“Gotta love Callum Keith Rennie,” Liz agreed.

“Who?” Jack asked.

“Um, he was one of the Rays on Due South, he’s a Cylon, he’s in…Bionic Woman, The L Word, Smallville, Supernatural, The X-Files…” Liz paused. “Seriously. If it’s filmed in Vancouver, he will eventually be in it. It’s like a law.”

“So you’ve been to Vancouver,” Jack said. Liz shook her head. “Right. I forgot that you’re a socially awkward tv watcher.”

Liz glowered. “That’s right I am, and suck it, he was also in Hard Core Logo, which was cool,” she said. “Why do you want me to go to Vancouver?”

Jack shrugged innocently. Which meant something was bad. In general, Jack sending her out of the country was a bad sign, but Liz got the feeling it had something to do with her now-showing baby bump.

“Who wouldn’t want to go to Vancouver? It has Tim Horton’s and The Famous BC Bud, which I assume is a Canadian improv group or outeach,” Jack said without blinking an eye. Awww, he was reading her Entertainment Weeklys and stealing from Diablo Cody!

“How bad is it, Jack?” Liz asked, pausing and crossing her arms. “I know you’re not just sending me to Vancouver for fun, because you had that golf tournament thing last weekend and missed the first person who didn’t already know asking when I was due.”

“Also, breast inspection duty,” Jack said without missing a beat. Liz glared. That was supposed to be a secret! How was their super-secret affair of doubt about long-term staying power supposed to work out if he kept announcing that he inspected her boobs regularly?

“Yes. That,” Liz said. “Which you will never get to have again unless you tell me why you are trying to bundle me off to Canada.”

“My mother is coming. Tomorrow,” Jack said.

Liz whimpered. Now how was she supposed to get a little time alone with the massage guy that Jack paid for when Liz needed relaxation? Also, that meant no more premium snack service. And no more sex until Colleen was safely off Manhattan.

Wow, she’d thought that.

“I can’t, Jack. The show’s still in production, I’m going to have to stay in the country,” Liz said. “Also, we need to make up for lost time. I want a custom box from Dean and DeLuca, an hour appointment with Jean-Claude, and we’re going to have to have a really long meeting, with lots of notes.”

“Are you SURE you can’t film on location in Canada for a week?” Jack asked.

“It’s a live show,” Liz said sharply.

“All right,” said Jack. “How’s the heir-to-be? Is he or she being properly nourished and cared for?”

Liz snorted. “Yes, the intelligent human-shaped incubator of your manly genes took care of herself,” she said. “Except I still cannot figure out where that smell is coming from in my apartment.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, I was talking to my future offspring,” Jack said.

“Which currently lives inside of me,” Liz said.

“Yes, and I will talk to you in a moment. I enjoy bonding with him, Lemon,” Jack said, looking temporarily blissed-out by his future fatherhood again. It was cute in a vaguely wrong way. “You I enjoy in other ways, but he — or she — is a Donaghy in utero. It’s best my heir is prepared well in advance.”

Liz crossed her hands behind her head and stuck her bump out as far as she could. She wasn’t telling him that their mutual offspring was getting her last name. Not any time soon.

“Fine,” she said sweetly. “Sweetie, your father wants to discuss corporate strategy with you. We’ll deprogram later.”

If it weren’t for the part where Jack and Liz were so going to fail at a long-term relationship, she would have to admit it was nice, having someone who liked talking to her stomach.

And nicer having someone who looked up at her and said, “Can we start with a long lunch and give you back to the set later?”

But maybe it was good that Colleen was coming. It would give Liz a taste of single, upper-middle-class motherhood instead of the pampered person who was having an executive’s illegitimate child.

Or maybe she should make a run for Vancouver while she still could.

* * *

“So how long before Jack’s mom goes home?” Pete asked two days later.

“Three _endless_ days,” Liz said. “I mean, it’s been great not having to deal with all of Donaghy’s weird little tics about pregnancy. And my own bed is a bit lumpy, but I found the source of the weird smell, so I can actually sleep in my apartment now. Plus, I really liked hearing about Elmo from your kids.”

Pete nodded and chuckled. “So you can do this?” he asked.

“Duh,” Liz said. “It’s good for me. I’ve gotten too dependent on Jack, and that’s bad, because that’s never going to work out. It’s all based on shallow chemistry that you know, hey. I don’t really need in my life. Sex, right? I’m pregnant. The last thing I need is more sex.”

Pete nodded again, and then kind of wrinkled his face up in a weird way. “You’re touching your own boob again,” he pointed out.

Liz took a moment to stop and hyperventilate. Dagnabbit. “That’s what I did in front of Kenneth,” she said. “It was so bad, Pete. So bad. I don’t think I can look at Kenneth again without thinking of what I was fantasizing about when he tapped me on the shoulder.”

“It’s always the deprived ones,” Pete said with a bemused shake of his head. “My mother-in-law explained that to me once. For an hour. While I was trapped in a nursing home.”

He shuddered. Liz shuddered, too. They gave sponge baths in nursing homes. With big, touchy-feely orderlies…

“Why now? Why can’t that sassy broad go be somewhere else? Like Canada. Or maybe further away than that. I bet Colleen would like Ireland,” Liz mourned.

Pete swallowed. “I think you should maybe take the afternoon to go hide out in your office because I think I just spotted the cause of all your — and hence my — problems,” he said, pointing and fleeing.

Liz would never be sure if it was because of the presence of Colleen Donaghy, or because Liz had been licking her lips.

But there she was. As sassy and sex-destroying as ever. Colleen Donaghy, the woman that probably would think it was hilarious that she was causing Liz to accidentally sexually harass her own crew.

Man, she needed a session with Jean-Claude and expensive Belgian chocolate now.

“Hi, Mrs. Donaghy,” Liz said with a little wave, hoping that Colleen would go away and let Liz die of horny humiliation in peace. But no, Colleen took one look at her in her big sweater and raised an eyebrow.

“You’re that Lemon girl,” she said. “Got a little fat over Christmas, huh?”

“Yep. Too many glasses of eggnog,” Liz said with a shrug. “I’m thinking of joining Weight Watchers.”

Then Liz started hiccuping. Colleen Donaghy paused, and then got a little closer while Liz tried to stop hiccuping. Sometimes if she held her breath and crossed her eyes, she stopped. Not this time, but sometimes.

“I’m okay,” Liz said. “Just the hiccups.”

“Girls like you get fat faces when they get fat from eating,” Colleen said. “Your face is pretty skinny.”

“Lucky me, I guess,” Liz said, hiccuping again. “Don’t you and Jack have lunch at Le Grenouille in twenty?”

Oh, sometimes Liz could just smack herself. There was no reason for her to know where Jack was taking his mom for lunch. Especially because the cover story was that Jack and Liz weren’t on the best terms these days, thanks to Colleen screwing up Liz’s family for a few months.

“That’s right. Why do you know that?” Colleen asked.

“Um. Jack told me he couldn’t meet about the show for lunch because he was taking you to lunch,” Liz lied, talking fast and hoping Colleen bought it.

“Well, then, I guess I better go eat frogs with my son, shouldn’t I?” Colleen said sardonically. Oh, Colleen so knew something was up. “If you get over your hiccups, you’re invited to come along.”

“Oh, uh,” said Liz. “That’s nice, but…”

“Nice, hell. Eating frogs with Jack sounds boring as get-out and if you two are on such awful terms, it’ll give me something to do. Besides, you need to meet with him, don’t you?” Colleen asked shrewdly.

“But the reservation!” Liz said, trying to protest.

“If La Grenouille can’t stick a fat girl at our table, then we can go someplace else,” Colleen said. “You’re going. Don’t tell Jack. I want to see him squirm.”

Liz exhaled and tried the smiling thing again. “Oh, I’m sure you’re going to see him squirm. Shortly.”

* * *

It wasn’t quite squirming, but blind panic probably made Colleen just as happy.

“Why are you HERE?” Jack hissed at Liz half an hour later, not even sneaking in an attempt to touch her. Which made Liz cranky. Which made her crankier when she realized it had made her cranky.

“I had the hiccups and then your mother had me in her grasp,” Liz said. “I don’t know. I froze. She called me fat and I did okay with that, but then she wanted to bring me so you could squirm and I’m here now.”

“Jack,” Colleen called. “You leave that poor girl alone. I dragged her along, so you get over here and treat us both to delicious frog food.”

“Does she know?” Jack mouthed. Liz shook her head.

“Well, isn’t this cozy,” Colleen said when Liz sat down. “Liz Lemon here has gotten fat lately, hasn’t she, Jack?”

“Lemon looks fine to me, Mother,” Jack said, picking up his menu.

“Sure, she does. If you’ve gone blind recently,” Colleen said. “Hell of a thing, though. It’s a real localized weight gain. Bigger tummy, nice va-va-va-voom in the chest, a little soft around the limbs.”

“Hadn’t noticed,” Jack lied, deeply engrossed in his menu. Colleen snorted. _Liz_ practically snorted. He hadn’t noticed? This, from the same man who enjoyed finding her new stretch marks? The man who made a ritual of pointing out all the same things his mother was listing, plus the intimate details?

“They don’t still fire pregnant girls in this industry, do they?” Colleen asked suddenly. “I mean, if she were a showgirl I’d understand, but you two are pretending like it’s not obvious as Jack’s weak chin that Lemon here is four months pregnant.”

“My chin isn’t weak,” Jack retorted. “And if Lemon is pregnant, it’s her own damn business and not any of yours.”

Colleen rolled her eyes and turned back toward Liz. “One night stand gone bad?” she inquired.

“Something like that, yes,” Liz said politely. She was not going to crack. She wasn’t. Because then Colleen would own them and she’d owe Jack two snark-free speeches to Republicans for losing the bet. “The father’s not a part of my life.”

“Good for you,” Colleen said with a hideous smirk. “Nothing like a baby having two parents to wreck its life. Am I right, Jack?”

“I don’t know, the case could be made that some children would be better _raised by wolves_ than by two parents in a traditional setting,” Jack replied acidly. “I think Lemon will handle her impending motherhood just fine.”

Colleen didn’t have an immediate comeback for that. More likely, she was biding her time before landing a knockout punch. Liz sipped her water and fiddled with her napkin while the silence got creepy and oppressive.

“I guess you took Murphy Brown for a role model,” Colleen said sweetly. “It’s a shame, though. He must have been a real loser if you didn’t even try to make a go of it.”

“Well, Mrs. Donaghy, I just have bad taste in men,” Liz replied with a viciously even voice that she didn’t even know she’d had. “I don’t know how to fix that, and I’m too old to try.”

“Ever think of girls?” Colleen asked.

“Yeah. Not for me,” Liz replied. “So how’s Florida?”

“Boring and full of old people,” Colleen said. “Are you going to find out the sex of the baby?”

“Yes,” Liz said. “Why not?”

“Smart girl,” Colleen said. “Besides, if it’s a boy, you can use it to torture the hell out of the father later. Nothing gets to a man like not knowing his son. Even his bastard son conceived by turkey baster as a favor to a friend.”

Why oh why hadn’t Liz gone to Vancouver when Jack had offered? Because Colleen was putting the screws to both Liz and Jack, because she either knew or suspected. Or she was just evil incarnate.

Possibly that was an “and” statement.

“The gender of the baby is irrelevant,” Jack interrupted. Liz almost threw a roll at him, because Jack wanted a son so much that he kept addressing the bump as ‘my boy.’ “It’s not a special torture unless the man is a cad and a sexist.”

Colleen’s face…well, the word in Liz’s head was ‘special.’ Because there was no other word for it. Also because Liz wasn’t sure if Colleen was going to crack up laughing at how much Jack was lying or just fall over dead from surprise that her own son claimed that he didn’t care if he was having a boy or a girl.

“Are you okay, Mrs. Donaghy?” Liz asked. “I know Jack expressing a progressive opinion about anything is a frightening miracle and all…”

Also a frightening miracle? Was Colleen turning and staring Liz down like there was a horn growing fron Liz’s pregnant forehead. Followed by a once-over that was tinged with scary, scary interest and respect.

“It’ll be a boy,” Colleen said. “Because you deserve one of your own.”

Oh, she **knew.** The subtext on that statement was a hundred percent _enjoy your very own Donaghy man, Liz Lemon._ But she was letting them pretend it wasn’t true, probably for Jack’s sake. Or to mock him later when Jack triumphantly presented his son to Colleen.

Again, probably an “and” rather than an “or” statement.

“Thank you,” Liz said. “I think.”

Colleen snorted, and turned back to Jack, who was sweating. Good. He deserved to sweat. Plus, it was usually how Liz felt when stuck in one of Jack’s little set-ups that he created to “test” her.

“What’s the booze look like, Jack? I need a drink,” Colleen said wryly. “Looks like you do, too.”

Liz patted her future child and tried not to be too jealous. Because she needed a drink like…like she was Tracy. And was at least five or six months from getting one.

Though come to think of it, that was also like Tracy. In theory.

* * *

Colleen left her appointed three days later. Jack had Liz up for a meeting within twenty minutes of his paid gate attendant spotting the plane — containing Colleen — lifting off the runway.

Seriously. Had paid the guy cash and everything.

Now Jack was wearing his most self-satisfied smile as Liz closed and locked the door behind her. Liz needed to teach their future child (boy or girl) to never get so smug that they ever had that face. Ever.

“I’ve won a round against her, Lemon,” Jack said, handling her a glass of sparkling something. Liz was guessing cider and not champagne. And yep, she was right. “Oh, Colleen tried to break me. She got damned close when she dragged you to La Grenouille, but I triumphed. And you were magnificent. Facing her down like that!”

“You get way too much of a charge facing off against your mother,” Liz said, deciding not to tell him just yet that Colleen knew. Though now she was totally curious if Colleen had purposefully not broken Jack so that Liz could do it.

“That may be, but I so rarely win…” and Jack seized Liz by the waist and swung her around. “TiVo whatever ridiculous show you watch tonight and come home with me.”

“I already packed my overnight bag and everything,” said Liz, deciding to wait to tell him that Colleen knew. Jack was in a good mood, and good moods meant that he’d order food for them that she liked. “I mean, five days without talking network strategy with the bump…you must have been going crazy.”

Crazy like Liz had almost gone with sexual frustration. She’d even bought her first actual sex toy yesterday. Though she had not actually managed to get the courage to take it out of the box, because there was something so wrong about the shoulder massager slash vibrator and its tasteful, multi-purpose vibe.

“Your hair is incredibly shiny,” Jack said, touching it curiously. “It’s grown half an inch since my mother descended upon us, too.”

“It has!” Liz agreed. “Cerie asked me what shampoo I used and everything. Cerie usually does that to avoid whatever I’m using, but this time…please don’t sniff my hair. Remember how that reminds me of McDreamy and how you hate being compared to Patrick Dempsey?”

“That’s dirty pool, Lemon,” Jack murmured. Oh, he was doing that thing he did. The stroke the back of the neck thing that sent happy buzzing shivers down her spine. “Especially because you know you could stay for a little while.”

“You’re already a little too happy with yourself because of your mom,” Liz replied, pulling back a little. “And when you’re too happy, bad things happen to television. For the sake of television, I should go.”

“And how were those five days of being a regular pregnant single mother, Lemon?” Jack asked. Damn it. Why did Jack always have a good response to her very good reasons for trying to ditch him? “I heard that you locked your writers in the room with you and told them if they didn’t stop bringing anything with egg in it to the set, you would give birth in the writer’s room and make them watch.”

Oh, he’d OF COURSE heard about that. In Liz’s defense, she probably would have done that anyway, because the McMuffin was making her McHurl and freakin’ Lutz kept bringing them in anyway. Well, at least until she’d started graphically describing what would happen if he didn’t stop.

“I managed my own show with my usual professionalism and went to the movies with Pete and his kids,” Liz said with a straight face. “I totally bonded with the kids and everything. And I found out where that weird smell was coming from in the living room. I had apparently left a wet towel near the vent and it didn’t quite dry. And I’d used it to clean up spilled juice. So screw you, I was totally Miss Independent.”

Jack wrecked Miss Independent and her independence by leaning down and kissing her. Liz categorically failed at fending off those. Even with the bump between them, Liz was less about avoiding and dodging, and more about wrapping her arms around his neck because five nights being a single mother were not as fun as Liz had thought. Sharing a bed, even half the time, got to be a habit.

Dag. He was going to win.

And he knew it. That’s why he was kissing her earlobe and that’s why his hands were roaming under her sweater and toward the top of her jeans.

“You traumatized Kenneth,” Jack murmured in her ear, using one finger on the back of her neck. “Pregnant ladies aren’t supposed to ever, EVER want to make love again. That’s what he told me, in a very confused voice, because after all, you got a baby, what would you want to do this for?”

“Prostaglandins and evil schemes,” Liz replied, nuzzling his shoulder.

“Oh really?” Jack asked, walking his fingers down her spine.

“No,” Liz said, relaxing into him. “I’m trying to have some dignity before I give in like a big give-inner and whimper and beg.”

“Oh,” Jack said. “Then I’ll be magnanimous and not take the time to make you whimper and beg.”

“Good,” Liz said, working on his belt. “By the way, I have three new marks under my clothes. Keep being magnanimous and find all three and you can keep me for two nights.”

“Thank you for indulging my peculiar obsessions, Lemon,” Jack said sincerely.

“And thank you for ending my streak as a potential predator,” Liz replied, just as sincerely. “Seriously. I was seeing Chris Hansen in my future and…”

He kissed her again and the thought dropped right out of her head.

Good.


End file.
